Team Improbable
by waffleman1314
Summary: They conquered summer, and now they're onto the real challenge- middle school. Phineas, Ferb, Isabella, Baljeet, Buford, Irving, Django, Ginger, Holly, Milly, Adyson, Gretchen, and Katie are all starting the sixth grade. Wonder how that will go. Phineas' POV.
1. Prologue: Synopsis

**So, there was a need for a replacement for 'The Way of the Platypus' and this was the selected story out of the stash of ideas I have. Here's the prologue. -AJ ThaPlatypus**

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Starting with once upon a time seems a little bit cliché, but it's usually a fair statement, right? Because it happened once upon a time, you know. So does this. So, let me start with the most cliché phrase in the book.

Once upon a time.

There, I said it. Now, there was a small family in Danville, and in that family lived five people and a platypus. There was a dad, a mom, the annoying older sister, Candace, the step-brother, Ferb, Perry, the pet platypus, and then me. I'm Candace's biological brother, and mom's biological son. Now that that's out of the way, here's our life in a nutshell. It's been this way since the family merger happened.

Dad doesn't pay much attention to anything and is as passive as a floating cloud. Mom never sees anything because…well, I'm not so sure why. Candace has it out for Ferb and I. Why? Because we build incredible things in our backyard every single day of every single summer and it drives her nuts for some reason. Perry…he's always disappearing to who knows where and reappearing for meals and back scratches. So there, life run-down.

I'm eleven this year. Which means I'm starting the sixth grade. So is Ferb. Candace; she's seventeen and starting her senior year of high school. But let's not focus on her, guys, let's focus on my group of friends. There's Buford, the bully. Baljeet, the nerd. Irving, the dweeb slash stalker who has pictures of me I never knew existed until I met him. Isabella, the cute girl across the street who is as tough as she is cute. And then, of course, there's me and Ferb; the quiet one and the ever-optimistic one. Ferb being the quiet one, that is. So there you have it- that's us. I've got a story about us, if you're willing to sit through it. It's about this starting of middle school. Discovering a new frontier, if you will. And just for lack of an interesting title, I'll give you one that seriously beats "Phineas Reminisces on Starting Middle School." No, no, no, we're going with something cool, something epic, something…implausible. Ladies and gentlemen, I will now tell you about…

"The Adventures of Team Improbable!"

Yeah, that's way better.

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**So, new story time has taken off xD **


	2. Number Two Lead Overhead

**Slow beginning. Yerp. -AJ **

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The Googolplex Mall is probably the best place in the Tri-State Area to shop for school supplies. One other thing to note is that it's also not the most fun place to shop in late August. The school year started in ten days, and Mom insisted that we go shopping on the one day that everyone and their mom was out. So, to make matters even more fun, she'd volunteered to bring the gang along, as well as Candace, Stacy, and Jenny. I won't even mention Perry; he sat in Mom's purse and therefore had it easy. Our first stop was to get clothes for school.

We went into various stores to find outfits, which didn't take long because we all have our signature looks. Of course, we had to spend an extra long time at the hottest teen clothing stores because Candace and Stacy had to try on every single outfit in the store. I was thankful that Isabella and the other Fireside Girls weren't this picky. After they'd finally decided on what to buy, we left that joint for an office supply store.

It was, amazingly, the least crowded store in the entire mall. Ferb, Baljeet, Buford, and I headed off in one direction, Isabella and the Fireside Girls took off on their own aisle, and Candace, her friends, and Mom went to look at Tiny Cowboy posters. Perry hopped out of Mom's purse and scampered along after us. I bent over and picked him up.

"You know you weren't supposed to get out of there, silly boy," I laughed. Ferb reached over and patted him on the head. Yes, a platypus was a boy's best friend. "Ferb, did you happen to grab baskets?"

He held up one. I winked at him and smiled. Ferb certainly never missed a beat in life. It was a fortunate thing that he was always on top of things, especially since I could get distracted by simple things such as a platypus who had decided he didn't want to be a purse poodle.

"Oh, there you are, Perry!" Baljeet laughed. He reached over and grabbed a pack of black pens off of the shelf next to us. "So, how much stuff is on this list?"

"Lots of things," I sighed. I readjusted my hold on Perry to pull the list out of my pocket. "There's black or blue pens, red pens, variety color highlighters, sticky notes, loose-leaf notebook paper, single-subject notebooks for each class, binders for each class, dividers for each class, glue sticks, three by five notecards, number two pencils, and…crayons?"

"Crayons?" Buford blinked. "That's what I'm talking about!"

"Do they think we are six or something?" Baljeet huffed.

"Hey, I like crayons!" Buford whined.

"Me, too," I remarked. Ferb took the list from me so I could hold Perry up better. I nodded to him and readjusted the platypus again. "Is it just me, or are you heavy?"

"He cannot be _that_ heavy, Phineas," Baljeet rolled his eyes and grabbed a pack of blue pens off of the shelf. "They only get up to what, a little over five pounds?"

"Yeah, I think so," I nodded. "He still feels heavy."

Perry let out a frustrated snort and fidgeted in my arms. I could tell he wanted to walk along behind us, but I couldn't let him free. Mom had specifically told me if he wasn't being held or carried, he couldn't come. So, I had to put up with twitchy the squirmy-pus. I stroked his head and let him get comfy in my arms. He flipped over so that his stomach was facing up.

"Someone's being particular," Ferb noted. He grabbed for some pens as well.

"Yeah," I nodded, laughing a little bit. "Well, did we grab all of the pens?"

"I think so," Baljeet hummed. "Wait, no, we all need red pens."

"Red," Buford mumbled. He ran up and down the aisle, scanning the shelves for the right color. "Here they are!"

"Well, grab us each a package and come on!" I said. He scooped up five packs and ran back down here. "Buford, there's _four _of us."

"I thought the platypus might need some," he shrugged. We all looked at Perry, whose eyes were half-closed and his expression clearly uninterested in what we were doing. "Oh, what do you know, he doesn't really care…"

"Buford, I do not think he even knows how to write," Baljeet said, rolling his eyes. "What is next on the list?"

That was pretty much our entire day. We looked for supplies, Buford kept trying to get packages of things for Perry, and Perry kept trying to wiggle out of my arms. Everything went smoothly until we needed number two pencils.

"Great, they're at the top…" Buford sighed. I handed Perry to Ferb and hopped up on his shoulders. "Phineas…"

"Phineas, you are going to break something," Baljeet frowned.

"Nonsense, this is totally safe," I reassured him. I grabbed four packs of pencils and handed them down to Buford. Of course, Baljeet was right. I fell off of Ferb's shoulders and landed on my right hand. That hospital visit was even worse than the crowd at the mall.

"At least it was your right hand," Ferb shrugged. Yeah…

* * *

**Baljeet DID tell him...**


	3. The Thing About Buses

**So, this is my first story with little to no action. It's just realistic-ish fiction. (as realistic as Phineas and Ferb can get). -AJ **

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The first day of school was already a mess when I was awoken by Perry at around two in the morning. It would have been okay if he were, say, nudging me because he'd had a nightmare. Naturally, I was lucky enough to wake up to him gagging. Disgusting. I had to put him outside before he vomited all over the floor. Then I had to look for something that could possibly ease his stomach. I figured an antiemetic, specifically a horribly measured dose of Pepto-Bismol, would do the trick. I was horribly wrong. He only got sicker. So when my mom ran downstairs to see who was 'making that awful retching noise,' I had to confess that I'd pretty much been an idiot and either overdosed the platypus or given him something that he had adverse reactions to.

I went back to sleep, but was woken up again by the same noise. My first thought was that Perry had gotten inside somehow, and then I realized that Mom had taken him to the vet after the early-morning incident. Frowning, I went out into the hallway to find out Candace had gotten sick, too. If one more person hurled, I was gonna hurl something at them.

Trying to ignore the over-abundance of nausea, I quickly got dressed and packed up my backpack. This was all tricky work with a cast on, but I managed perfectly well. I ran down to breakfast and hopped up into my seat at the table, where Ferb, Dad, and a very tired Mom were already sitting. Ferb passed me a bowl and the cereal box.

"Sorry you had to get up so early, Mom," I apologized. She moaned a little.

"It's okay, Phineas," she sighed. "It turns out your dosage was fine, Perry just had a very bad reaction to the medicine. I'm not sure why he was originally sick, though. They're going to keep him until two just to make sure he's okay."

"Oh," I blinked. Even if I was going to school, I still wanted to know that he was okay before I left. I poured my cereal and asked for the milk. Dad passed it to me. "So…it wasn't just an upset stomach?"

"Phineas, honey, I don't know," Mom said to me. "I'm sure he's fine. It was probably just an imbalance of acid or something."

"Okay," I mumbled. I ate my breakfast silently and went upstairs and continued readying myself for school. Brushing our teeth wasn't as fun without Perry. Ferb and I sighed. We finished preparing ourselves in the bathroom and went to find our shoes. After I'd put those on, I stopped by Candace's room to see if she was okay. She wasn't. I got a couple of hard objects thrown at me.

"So, you talked to your sister, I see," Dad hummed as he walked past me.

"How'd you guess?" I asked him. He pointed to my arm. I looked down only to see a large bruise there. Fantastic. Broken arm, bruised arm, and no sleep because Perry couldn't keep his dinner down. What a wonderful way to start the first day of sixth grade. This was how I got sent out to the bus stop.

The bus stop was at the corner of Maple Drive and Oak Court. (The street names in our neighborhood were all named after trees). Ferb and I were the second kids to arrive there, with Baljeet having been first. (He'd camped out there since two. I think that's preferable to watching Perry return his dinner from whence it came). Buford and Irving showed up a few minutes later, from opposite directions. Isabella and the Fireside Girls showed up last.

"So, who's ready for a bus ride?" I asked, trying to display some enthusiasm. Baljeet made a face.

"Seeing as Buford was the only one to actually ride a bus to elementary school, I think we all have a right to be terrified," he said. "Just imagine- bullies in the back wanting to give you wedgies, older kids picking on the younger kids, and, worst of all, the kids that have a clear disregard for personal hygiene."

"It's not really that bad," Buford shrugged. "I don't see what your problem is."

"That is easy for you to say!" Baljeet objected. "You are a bully and you can intimidate even the most robust of adults!"

"He's makin' up words, ain't he?" Buford asked, looking at me. I frowned. "You're makin' up words, 'jeet."

"I am not," he muttered.

"Relax, Baljeet, you've got us beside you," I smiled. He gave me a confused look. "I mean to say that no matter what happens, you've got a group of friends to have your back. I'm pretty sure Buford wouldn't let another bully touch you anyways."

"If another bully lays a finger on Baljeet, his finger is going to go somewhere he doesn't want it to go," Buford growled.

"Uh…" I said.

"What?" Buford blinked.

"Do I even want to know where you meant?" I grimaced. Baljeet jumped in and shook his head vigorously. Apparently he already knew. I shuddered. Poor 'jeet. Buford could be so crude in his cartoonish violence.

"Could you boys discuss something else?" Isabella inserted. She made a face and fiddled with her hair a little. She'd left the other Fireside Girls to talk to us for some reason.

"Like what?" I asked her.

"Oh, um," she blushed. "I wanted to know if you wanted to sit next to me on the bus, maybe?"

"Well," I started. I looked at Ferb, who nodded for me to say yes. Buford was uninterested, and Baljeet was also nodding. Irving was making his 'fan-girl trapped in Irving's body' squeals. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

"Really?" Isabella exclaimed, her voice getting a little higher. She coughed and spoke normally again. "I mean, yeah, awesome, bro."

"Click!"

"Irving, put the mental camera away," Buford snarled. "Some bullies are gonna pound you for that. I would, but I already plan to give Baljeet a nice, long wedgie once we get to lunch period."

"NOW you tell me!" Baljeet sighed. "A better warning would have been nice…"

"Too late," Buford chuckled. The bus pulled up behind him and came to a shrieking halt. We all covered our ears. Now those hurt, too. I was gonna be a walking train wreck today. "Oh, I forgot to warn you guys about the fact that buses don't oil their brakes."

"I think that my eardrums are bleeding," Baljeet moaned.

"No kidding," I said.

"All you nerds can go first," Buford laughed. The bus door swung open, and Ferb was, naturally, the first one up the stairs. I followed, and the rest behind me. The bus driver was a goofy lady who was giggling for no apparent reason. Creepy. I found the first empty seat and patted the spot next to me for Isabella.

"I believe you requested this seat," I laughed. She smiled and happily sat next to me. "It's so weird that there aren't any seatbelts…"

"Phineas, you've been on a bus before," she giggled.

"Right…" I nodded. "I knew that…"

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**I enjoy writing about flirtation. xD **


	4. Homerooms, Lockers, and Schedules

**Okay...I don't know where I'm going with this. -AJ **

* * *

The bus ride to school was rather bumpy and there was the occasional eight graders who felt it necessary to try and annoy us. Isabella got so frustrated with them that at one point she jumped up and shouted for them to all shut up. Needless to say, I had to pull her back down onto our seat and emphasize the importance of keeping calm in a stressful environment.

Once we got to school, however, that was when the insanity started. We hopped off of the bus and gathered back into our group. Right then, Irving decided he was going to have a moment of panic, so we had to try and keep him relaxed. Ferb simply pressed a pressure point on his shoulder, causing him to faint. He has _got_ to stop doing that, even if it makes me laugh. It left me and Baljeet up to the task of picking up Irving and rushing him inside.

"Does anyone know where the clinic is?" I asked.

"Yes, yes, I do," Baljeet nodded. He turned so that he was walking backwards. "Just follow my lead and we'll have him there in no time."

"Okay," I shrugged. "Just a random question, how do you know?"

"I studied a map of the school so I wouldn't look lost today," he smiled. I smiled back and instantly thought about how stupid I was. How could I have not thought about that? Now I'd have to ask for directions from upperclassmen; if you can call seventh and eighth graders upperclassmen, that is. "I made sure I knew my schedule back and forth, too."

"Man, I've just got mine in my left pants pocket," I sighed. Irving was heavier than I'd originally thought or I needed to work out some more.

"You should have been better prepared," Baljeet laughed. He nodded to my right. "Here we are- the John P. Tristate Middle School clinic."

"Can't you just call it Tristate Middle School instead?" I asked him, shaking my head a little.

"But that is not its name," he insisted. We pushed through the clinic's door. A lady at a desk, the nurse, I assumed, was reading over some list. She glanced up at us and blinked a little, probably shocked to see us carrying the unconscious Irving.

"What on Earth…" she breathed.

"Yeah, um, he kinda sorta passed out getting off of the bus," I said, not really wanting to tell her my stepbrother basically put him out of commission with one finger.

"Poor kid, what's his name?" she asked, pulling out a pen.

"Irving Du Bois," Baljeet said. I gave him a look. How in the world did he know Irving's last name? He just shrugged. I mean, I think I know Baljeet's…Tjinder? Yeah, I think that's it. Still, most of us weren't that open with sharing last names for some odd reason. Weird.

"Well, you can leave him here and run along to class, alright?" she said sweetly. She handed us both a yellow slip of paper with her signature on it. "Just write your homeroom teacher's name on the top line and you'll be good."

"Why?" I frowned.

"Because, the bell will ring before you get there," she laughed. "I know you sixth graders on the first few days of school. You're always having trouble finding rooms. Consider this a gift from Nurse Chelsea. And, sweetie, try not to lift too much with that right arm."

She gave us both a wink and then took Irving from us gently. We blinked, looked at one another, and then exited the clinic with a confused expression on our faces. I shoved my left hand down into my pocket and pulled out my schedule.

"Did she just call you 'sweetie,' Phineas?" Baljeet asked, trying not to let out a laugh. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Shut up," I breathed. "What's your homeroom?"

"I have Mr. Oliver," he told me. "You?"

"I have…" I stared down at my sheet and looked at the name next to 'homeroom.' Letting out a breath, I read the name aloud. "I've got…seriously, since when was Isabella's mom a teacher?"

"She's a _teacher_?!" Baljeet exclaimed.

"Yeah, it says her name right here under my homeroom column," I said. "I've got her for homeroom and for fifth period Spanish A."

"You're taking Spanish?" he blinked.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Is that…is that an issue?"

"No, I just saw you as more of a person who'd enjoy French," Baljeet shrugged. "Plus, that's what Ferb's taking."

"Well, I _was_ going to take French, but Mom said she wanted us kids to each take a different language," I sighed. "Candace took German, I think. That, and she didn't want Ferb and I to have all of our classes together."

"Oh, bummer," he grimaced. "At least you have a sibling and you can go to school with him. I'm an only child and have…Buford."

"I guess," I agreed. "Granted, my parents did talk awhile about having another kid…"

"Say what?" Baljeet gasped. "They already have three! Why cannot _my _parents have said that when I was younger?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "And this wasn't even a year ago. So, it wasn't really when I was younger, per se. It's just a really weird thought, though. Mom's, like, thirty-eight…"

"Eh, I suppose," Baljeet sighed.

"Hmm, well, here's my stop," I frowned. "See you as soon as I can…"

"Have fun," he laughed, continuing to walk in the direction we had been going. The bell rang right as I reached the doorway. Ms. Garcia-Shapiro walked over to the door, gave me a curious look, and then took my pass from me. "We were at the clinic…Irving passed out."

"Ah, well, _date prisa!_" she told me. I blinked at her. She ushered me over to a seat that had my name labeled on it beside the number one. This led me to believe that this was my seat for the entire year. It served as a nametag would in elementary school, I suppose, just with a different name for every class period. The rumor that one could choose their own seat in middle school was a lie.

"Did you notice you're name's, like, alliterative?" a guy beside me chuckled. "Ph-ineas F-lynn."

"Okay…?" I blinked. He just sat back in his chair and snickered to himself. I glanced over at his name tag. "Hmm, what do you know, yours is, too."

"Huh?" he said, narrowing his eyes. I pointed to his nametag with my left hand.

"Derek Debologna," I said. I had mistakenly pronounced it 'duh bologna.' This, naturally, angered him a little bit. The rest of the surrounding kids started laughing hysterically. My cheeks flushed pink. "Was that…incorrect?"

"Heck yeah, it was," he growled.

"Alright, _estudiantes_," Ms. Garcia-Shapiro smiled and clapped her hands. "We are going out in the hallway to get lockers assigned!"

We all stood to our feet and followed her, but just as soon as it was just Derek and I left, he grabbed me by the shirt and pinned me to the wall.

"You don't know what you've started, kid," he snarled. I gulped. Uh-oh.

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**I had to up the action just a litte bit...**


	5. Homeroom Havoc

**Yes, I'm back after a VERY long break! I finally have chapter four for you all! -AJ**

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Derek grinned devilishly and kicked the door closed behind everyone. I hoped that Ms. Garcia-Shapiro had her classroom keys with her, because there was clearly no way that Derek was going to let me go. He threw a punch at my face, which I avoided by turning my head to the left. This ticked him off even more.

"Look, _Phineas_," he said icily. "Let's get something straight. Nobody laughs at me, nobody laughs at my name, and nobody laughs at anything related to me. I've been in this school for three years now, and I don't want you pesky new sixth graders messing up my reputation as the most feared kid at Tristate. Got it?"

"So you're an eight grader?" I asked, half-closing my eyes.

"No, I'm a sixth grader!" he growled. That earned me a smart slap to the cheek. I swallowed. "And don't you dare make fun of me for it!"

"I wasn't making fun of anything!" I cried, struggling to get out of his grasp. He pressed me even harder into the wall. "I'm being honest here, you said my name was alliterative, so I was just returning the compliment!"

"That wasn't a compliment," Derek said, his teeth clenched. When he spoke, flecks of spit hit me in the face. I made a mental reminder to wash my face with soap later. "It was an attempt to set you in your rightful place below me."

"Sorry…I'm hard to embarrass…" I sighed. Another slap to the cheek.

"I'll find a way to embarrass you," he said. He'd gotten so close to me that I could smell the garlic in his breath. I coughed a little, trying not to say anything about his bad breath. "I find a way to embarrass everyone. Everyone has a weak point."

"Embarrassment isn't mine," I said calmly. Derek's clenched fists tightened around the folds of my t-shirt. My armpits were starting to hurt from being held up by my shirt. I tried a second time to struggle out of his grasp, but he wouldn't allow it. "You'll just have to find a different weak point."

"You know something, Phineas?" Derek snarled. "You're bothering me. You're bothering me a whole lot. And that's something you don't want to be doing."

"Me? Bothersome?" I blinked. "Come on, isn't there a way I can make it up to you? My brother and I are really handy with tools- we could build you something if you like…"

"I don't want payment," Derek sniffed. "Unless you can beat yourself up for me, I'm going to have to do it myself. I don't see you being capable of inflicting pain on yourself, so it looks as if I get the honors of doing it for you."

"Not today!" I said quickly. I slipped my arms out of my t-shirt and found myself dropping to the floor. Derek stood there for a moment, holding my shirt up against the wall and blinking. Not waiting for him to comprehend that I'd just evaded him, I scrambled to my feet and ran for the door. I started to bang my fists on it, hoping Ms. Garcia-Shapiro would hear me.

"Oh, no you don't!" Derek exclaimed. He lunged for me and hit the door as I ducked out of the way. Sitting up, he gave me a daunting stare and bared his teeth at me. Someone shook the handle to the door and let out a shriek.

"Someone go find Principal Dactyl!" a girl screamed.

"Derek, there's got to be another way we can settle this, mispronouncing your last name and calling it an alliteration isn't worth beating me up!" I said, hoping that I could talk sense into him. Sadly, I knew that it was a hopeless hope; if it hadn't worked with Buford, it surely wouldn't work with Derek.

"Nothing will satisfy me more than putting you in a few more casts," Derek seethed. He stood up and ran over to me once more. This time, when I tried to evade him, he grabbed me by the shoulder and tossed me onto the floor. He pressed one dirty sneaker into my chest and pressed down. "Now, hold still while I give you a licking you'll never forget."

"Please," I pleaded. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"I didn't mean anything by it," Derek mocked in a higher-pitched voice. He slapped me across the cheek a third time. "They never do. You pathetic kids always say that. When will you twerps learn your lesson? I can make fun of you, but you sure as heck can't make fun of me!"

"For the last time, I wasn't making fun of you!" I said, furrowing my eyebrows. It was starting to be just outright annoying to hear him accuse me of doing something I hadn't. He shoved his foot harder into my chest, knocking the breath out of me. I wanted to tell him more, but the lack of air didn't permit me any speech.

"Any last words, ginger?" Derek asked, chuckling to himself.

I tried to scream for help, but he placed one hand over my mouth. Frowning, I grasped onto his hand and attempted to pry it off. He was too strong for me, though, and just laughed at my pathetic state. I started to kick at him wildly, hoping that would make him surrender his grip on me, but nothing seemed to work.

"Aw, aren't you adorable?" he smiled. "Poor little Phineas, can't call for Mommy to come and save him, can he? I guess Derek's just too strong for him. It's called survival of the fittest for a reason, middle school is."

"Mister Debologna!" a man's voice roared. Two large hands grabbed Derek by the shoulders and violently pulled him off of me. I gasped for air and coughed a little. The man who'd saved me turned Derek around and glared at him. "Come with me to my office; we need to have a little chat."

"This isn't over, kid," Derek said, glowering at me as he walked off.

* * *

**Derek and Phineas- is this the beginning of bullying or will Phineas shake it?**


End file.
